LongTerm
by oppisum
Summary: Mycroft accepts that there are parts of his life that Greg keeps separate from their relationship, but he does worry about the long-term implications of some of them - namely his virtual ignorance of Greg's daughter.


**Long-Term**

**Summary: Mycroft accepts that there are parts of his life that Greg keeps separate from their relationship, but he does worry about the long-term implications of some of them - his virtual ignorance of Greg's daughter in particular.**

**A/N: Because I just had to do my take on Lestrade with a child. Reviews are much appreciated.**

Mycroft knew that Gregory Lestrade had a child. Then again, he _knew_ a lot of things. He _knew_ that the sky was blue. He _knew_ that a certain high-ranking dignitary was deathly afraid of hedgehogs. He _knew_ that the stock price for a particular international company was going to drop like freight train as soon as the market opened Monday morning. Mycroft Holmes _knew _many things, but that didn't mean he felt compelled to act on all of them.

The fact that his boyfriend/lover/most-important-person-in-his-life had a daughter was not something that he usually gave very much thought to. The girl probably wasn't even aware that Greg had a boyfriend. Mycroft understood on a logical level Greg's apparent desire to keep his daughter and lover from meeting. It made sense that he wouldn't want his young daughter to get attached to someone who might not be around permanently. This, however, was what – if he was entirely honest with himself – mildly unsettled the steel-nerved government official.

He and Greg had been dating for nearly nine months, and Mycroft liked to think that that count of time wouldn't be cut short any time soon. The DI was one of the few people he'd allowed himself to get close to in recent years and the only person he'd ever been in love with, so the fact that Lestrade didn't have enough confidence in the long-term potential of their relationship to allow him to meet his daughter was rather worrying. Mycroft would never mention it, though. To mention it was to bring his fears and insecurities to light. Besides, it was Greg's prerogative if he wanted to keep the two most important people in his life apart.

So it was for all of these reasons that Mycroft was thoroughly disconcerted to find Greg's flat door opened by a little girl with chin-length black hair at eight in the morning on a Saturday they usually spent together. "Er, hello."

"Hi," she said, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She appeared to be around eleven or twelve years old, and the blue Pokemon pyjamas she wore made it clear that she had only just woken up.

"Amelia, what have I told you about opening the door without me!" called a gruff voice. Lestrade stomped quickly into view, visible worried and also still in his night cloths, and scooped up his daughter. "Oh, hello," he said, catching sight of Mycroft.

"I think we're past that part, Daddy," Amelia said, tugging on the sleeve of his faded t-shirt.

"Yeah, I suppose we are." Greg looked at a loss for what to do with his daughter and boyfriend in the same room, so Mycroft decided to spare him some trouble.

"I think I'll just go. I don't want to interrupt."

"It's fine, really. I was about to make breakfast. Stick around and have some." He looked curiously between the little girl in his arms and his lover. "That is, if you want to."

"I'd be delighted."

Mycroft followed the older man into the flat and watched as he set his daughter down, ruffled her hair, and said, "Why don't you go get dressed, and I'll get breakfast going." As Amelia dashed off down the hall, Greg turned to his boyfriend. "Sorry 'bout this, My. Megan had something urgent come up with work and had to leave town."

Taking a seat at the counter, the elder Holmes watched as Greg dashed around the kitchen – experience had long since taught him that it was better to stay out of the way when the DI was cooking. "It's alright. Actually, I was beginning to wonder if this daughter you occasionally mentioned was just a myth you made up in order to get away from me every other weekend."

Lestrade laughed as he cracked an egg, not realizing that his boyfriend was only half-joking. "Well, I guess this meeting was kind of inevitable. If I'd waited any longer to introduce the two of you Amy might've started going through phone books in search of the elusive Mycroft Holmes. She's been dying to meet you." The grin he flashed was all teeth.

"She knows about me? About… us?"

Greg looked at the man across the counter quizzically. "Of course she does. Why wouldn't she?"

"I thought that's why you had kept me from meeting her – because either A, you didn't want her to know that you were dating another man, or B, you didn't want her to get attached to me."

"Okay, A, she's twelve; I doubt she even knows there's anything different about it. And B, I'd only not want her to get attached to you if I didn't think this," Greg gestured between them with the large spoon he was using to cook, "was long-term." A worried look crossed his face. "This is long-term, isn't it?"

Mycroft visibly relaxed with relief. "Oh God yes. I can hardly imagine my life without you at this point. One question, thought: Why did you keep me from meeting her if not because you though our relationship wasn't going to last?"

"I thought you didn't like kids," Greg said simply, shrugging.

"I'm bad with kids – my darling little brother is proof of that. There's a difference."

"My, I think Sherlock would have turned out this way with or without your help, and he's probably better off for it."

"Try telling him that."

"You don't see it, do you? Sherlock doesn't hate you, Mycroft. In fact, whether he acknowledges it or not, I'd say that there're times when he's very glad that you're around."

The younger man opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Amelia running back into the kitchen, now dressed in jeans and a _Doctor Who _t-shirt proclaiming 'The Angels Have The Phonebox' and depicting three angels carrying a 1960's police box. She looked speculatively up at Mycroft for a moment before apparently coming to a decision. A surprised noise somewhere between a yelp and a laugh escaped the government official as the little girl skilfullyclimbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He threw a helpless look at his boyfriend who just laughed.

"You're Mr. Mycroft, right? Daddy talks about you all the time!" Amelia leaned in and whispered conspiratorially into his ear, "I think he loves you."

Mycroft glanced up to see the girl's father focusing a little too intently on the eggs, his red ears betraying him.

"I'll tell you a secret," he stage whispered, a mischievous smile crossing his face. "I think I love him too."

**Thanks for reading!**


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